


Pomelos

by Soozen



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Azula (Avatar) Redemption, Azula (Avatar)-centric, Azula post-redemption, F/F, Pining, tyzula - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-24
Updated: 2020-09-24
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:54:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26623231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soozen/pseuds/Soozen
Summary: Ty Lee and Azula share a platter of fruit.For Tyzula Week 2020.
Relationships: Azula & Ty Lee (Avatar), Azula/Ty Lee (Avatar)
Comments: 28
Kudos: 159





	Pomelos

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Tyzula Week 2020, under the prompt 'fruit.'

The sun is bright in the sky over Ember Island, the heat from it hot and heavy, relieved only be the cool breeze coming in from across the sea. Ty Lee doesn’t mind the heat, really. She never has. Her mother would tell her that she has a firebender’s spirit, though Ty Lee has never been sure of that. She only knows that she enjoys hot and sticky Fire Nation summers.

Seated with her, on the porch of the royal family’s beach house, is Princess Azula. A platter of fruit is between them, nothing sliced or peeled, much to Azula’s displeasure. This is an adjustment for her, certainly, to have food that she must prepare on her own.

It’s progress, Ty Lee thinks, watching her select an orange and dig her nails into its skin, peeling away to reveal the fruit underneath.

Azula has come a long way, since the end of the war, since her fall from grace. Ty Lee was not there to witness it, nor the aftermath, nor the care given to Azula and the work she had undoubtedly put in to get her to this place. Zuko had spoken of it a little, of the fragility of Azula’s mind, the deep and harsh mood swings that could come without warning. Whatever he spoke of, Mai said even less.

But when Ty Lee had heard that Azula was no longer considered a threat, no longer consumed by a need for revenge or power, she’d decided to come to visit.

Life in the palace was unsuitable for the princess, apparently. Too much temptation to fall back into bad habits, too much that reminded her of the position she’d once held. Zuko had given her the beach house, a place of her own, servants to attend to her.

Not entirely, though, Ty Lee had noted. Azula dressed herself now. She did her own hair (and the topknot she wore was not the impeccably neat and tidy one that Ty Lee had known, but looser, with stray hairs, and somehow, Azula did not seem to mind).

Their reunion had been stiff, the first time they had seen each other since that day at the Boiling Rock. There had been no denying that she wanted to see Azula again, had worried about her constantly, without end ever since she was forced to stop her friends from killing each other. Ty Lee hadn’t wanted to choose Mai. Never in a thousand years had she ever thought that if she had to choose between Mai or Azula that she would choose the former.

But siding with Azula would have meant that Mai or Azula, or possibly both, would have ended up dead. She couldn’t let that happen. It was better to be thrown in prison and know Mai was alive and Azula was alive than to watch one of them be killed.

Azula never had known that was her reasoning, and she doubted that would have mattered to her.

But when they met again, in the courtyard of the beach house, Azula seemed just as nervous as she had been. Ty Lee apologized first; it had been a necessary action, to immobilize Azula, but that did not mean that she never regretted doing that to her.

Azula’s apology came two days later, in the morning as they walked along the sand; she said that she had been angry, she had been hurt and betrayed, and wanted to hurt Ty Lee just as badly, and that she was sorry. It took nothing to forgive her. Any anger Ty Lee once had over being thrown into a cell in the dark recesses of the Fire Nation had long passed in the years that followed being set free. She had forgiven Azula before she knew the princess was well again.

Or rather, as well as she can be. Ty Lee witnesses the mood swings, the days where Azula refuses to leave her bed and never speaks a word; the moments in which Azula suddenly becomes hot and angry, spitting fire over the barest of frustrations.

But most days are good. Most days, Azula is content, and Ty Lee can see everything in her that she has always adored; her confidence, the sharpness of her wit and her tongue (the scathing remarks have lessened), the way she views the world and everything in it as nothing but possibilities for her. Azula has never viewed anything as a means to stop her; only opportunities.

She cannot help but to think what an asset Azula could be to Zuko as an advisor. Perhaps one day, when the palace is not so triggering.

Azula holds out an orange slice, much to Ty Lee’s amusement, but she takes it, thanking her as she pops it into her mouth. Her generosity has grown, she notes. Years and years ago, on a rare occasion, Azula would share with Ty Lee, but usually it was only leftovers; a toy that she had grown bored of, food that she did not want.

Now, she shares what she currently enjoys, and Ty Lee loves this.

“You know,” Azula says, still separating the orange segments and setting them on the platter between them, “you haven’t filled me in on any beaus in your life.”

Ty Lee gives Azula a quizzical look. “What do you mean?”

“Come now; you were always so popular with the boys. You want me to believe that you don’t have a man in your life?”

Azula never looks up as she speaks, her eyes focused on the removing the pith from the orange segments now.

“I mean, I don’t,” Ty Lee answers with a frown. There had been those she had flirted with, those that she had entertained and fooled around with, but none that she had wanted to stay by their side. They gave her attention when she wanted it, and that was all she had ever really needed from men and boys. Never could they capture her attention.

Not in the way Azula always has.

“Interesting,” is all the princess replies, offering another orange slice to Ty Lee.

She accepts, their fingers brushing together, and Ty Lee hates that this is all the contact that Azula allows. There has never been a moment in her life that she has hidden her adoration for her; she refuses to believe Azula has not picked up on it, that she does not know. Azula is too smart, to sharp and clever, to dismiss Ty Lee’s loyalty as merely that.

Azula has always held all the cards.

“What about you, Azula? Have you met anyone?”

With a scoff, Azula replies, “Don’t be stupid, Ty Lee. You know I haven’t been free all these years.”

“I know.” She hasn’t eaten the orange slice, is only holding it, her eyes and attention only on Azula. “But you’ve been here for months and months, haven’t you? That’s plenty of time to meet _someone_.”

Azula is quiet. Her eyes are on a lemon, the orange she’d been dissecting now perfectly separated, all the peel and pith neatly piled on the edge of the platter. She looks as if she needs something else to occupy her hands.

“No,” she settles on saying. “No. And I’m not interested.”

Ty Lee speaks before she can silence her tongue. “Why not?”

Azula’s lips purse, and for a moment, Ty Lee worries that she may have accidentally pushed Azula into one of her dark moments; she braces herself for the anger that is sure to come.

Instead, she speaks, and her voice is soft, and her words are so heartbreaking. “In my experience, love is…transactional.”

Ty Lee cannot fight the way her brow furrows, how she reaches out to Azula, dropping the orange slice as she grips her hand. She has no words to give Azula, for what can she say to counter the experiences she’s had. The only love she has ever felt was from her father, a man so cold that Ty Lee did not know if he was truly capable of such a tender emotion.

Azula whips her head around to look at Ty Lee, unprepared for the sudden contact, and her hand twitches, as if rejecting the touch. Almost determined, Ty Lee solidifies her hold, not willing to let Azula pull away.

“Not all love is transactional,” Ty Lee finally utters, her voice low, wanting to promise Azula a new kind of love, one where she only needs to just be and not perform. But the words are stuck on her tongue, held back by Azula’s golden eyes that are nearly pleading with her to not say it. Instead, she finishes with, “Mine has never been.”

It is the first time she has put a name to all the devotion she has given Azula, who does not appear to be surprised by this confession; at least, not more so by the boldness at which Ty Lee has taken her hand.

“Not yet.”

Determination fills Ty Lee’s eyes. “Not ever.” She wets her lips. “Let me—”

Let me what? Ty Lee doesn’t know what she’s trying to say, because all words feel meaningless, and Azula’s gaze is strong. Her hand slips out of Ty Lee’s, lifting up, touching her cheek, the tips of her fingers and nails grazing her skin, and it is so gentle that Ty Lee wishes for a stronger touch, to know it is actually there.

But then it is gone, Azula’s hand dropping down to the platter of fruit, selecting a pomelo. The skin is thicker, requiring more force, a deeper grip, but Azula manages, tearing off a chuck of peel. Ty Lee can only stare, as Azula methodically removes the peel and pith.

“These were always your favorite, right?” she questions without even a glance at Ty Lee. “Or was the dragonfruit?”

Ty Lee swallows. “Pomelos.”

Azula nods, and Ty Lee sits silently. A couple of minutes later, the peeled pomelo is placed in Ty Lee’s hands. Wordlessly, Azula stands, and disappears into the house, leaving Ty Lee alone on the porch, with only the sun and the sea, and the pomelo.


End file.
